Losing Everything
by StarWarrior72
Summary: No matter what anyone says, they probably haven't lost as much as I have.
1. Chapter 1

I slip out the back door. This is new. I've wondered what was beyond those doors, but never been brave enough to try to slip out.

I'm wandering. Everything is beautiful. I can see the leaves, the sky, a lake, and a market! Wow! I've heard of those, seen them in holo-vids. But I've never been to one. I'm going there next.

I start towards the square, with all its pretty colours. Everything is distracting. Everything. I just want to wander forever, but I know that I will need to get home at some point. I focus a little harder on getting to the market.

The moment I set foot inside, I feel the stares. I turn to look over my shoulder. Did I do something wrong? I don't think I stand out here. My clothes fit, my hair is a bit scruffy, but it shouldn't be enough to get glares like this. I decide to shut up and just ignore it.

I don't have any money on me. It doesn't really matter.

I walk up to a stall selling brightly coloured clothes. I'm careful not to touch anything. That's the right protocol. Don't touch anything, and don't show if you have money. Well, I don't, so it doesn't matter.

"Can I help you?" asks the woman who owns the stall.

I remember not to make eye contact. Instead, I stare at her forehead. That way she'll think that I'm looking in her eyes.

"No thanks. Just looking." Now I allow myself to touch something. I pick up one of the shirts, look at it, fold it back up, and put it down. The woman looks at me oddly. I don't know what I did wrong, though, so I just ignore that too.

The woman seems a bit nervous, so I head off. Maybe someone's coming to rob her.

I wander around some more until I find a small bakery. Now I wish I had money. I wonder absently how hard it would be to get some. Instead I try to satisfy myself with looking at the food. That doesn't help. Now I'm really hungry.

"Hello?" A man has his hand on my shoulder. Oh no! I'm supposed to have a weapon. I don't have one, though, and he probably wants to hurt me. That or he wants to tell me something ridiculous that makes no sense.

I tense, ready to run if I have to.

"Don't be scared. I won't hurt you. Are you hungry?" He gestures to the breads I had been looking at.

Now I don't know what to do. They never offer the good guy anything. Maybe it's some kind of bizarre trap… I am hungry, though, and the breads smell awfully good. I decide that it's safe to accept his offer as long as I watch very carefully to see that he doesn't poison it.

"Yes."

"Take something, anything. I'll pay for it, if you'll just sit down and talk with me." He speaks coaxingly, and now I feel more comfortable. He wanted something from me. That's a nice, simple motive.

"Okay." I take one of the rolls I had been looking at and he leads me up to the cash. On the way he picks up a bun for himself, and he pays for all the food.

Then he leads me to a table in the little courtyard, looking out on the market. He sits down, and I follow suit, unsure of protocol again.

"What brings you to the market today?"

"I… uh… I don't even know your name. I'm Nick, by the way."

The man frowns slightly, "Anakin. It's good to meet you… Nick."

"Is there something wrong with my name?"

"No. Not at all. You just remind me of someone else." He takes a bite of his bread.

I take a tiny nibble.

"So, what are you doing in the market?"

"I was just curious, and I wanted to see what it was like." I shrug.

"What do you think?"

"I think it's interesting, but I'm not sure it is what I thought it would be."

"How so?"

I know I shouldn't tell him everything, but somehow he just seems to be so kind, so honest. "I guess I wasn't expecting the looks I'm getting from people."

"What were you expecting?"

"I don't know. I thought that something bad would happen. I was pretty sure it would rain."

"You don't strike me as a pessimist, what makes you think those things?" He's eating his food much faster than I am, but I don't feel comfortable eating any faster.

"Because that's what always happens."

"What do you mean always? Generally, the market is a fairly safe place to be. Do bad things happen to you every time you go out?"

"I don't go out."

He gapes at me, "What do you mean you don't go out?"

"My guardians don't think I'm smart enough to manage it." I shrug again.

"Manage what? Being out doors?"

"I guess. Although, they don't really know I can speak Basic."

He puts the roll down on the table and leans towards me. "Why haven't you told them?"

I'm surprised not to feel awkward being so close to someone I don't know. I don't think he plans to hurt me. Maybe I've found that protector you're supposed to get.

"Because I'm afraid to." I look down at my bun and realize that it has little candied fruits in it. I don't like them much, so I start picking them out. I also don't really want to look at him anymore.

He grabs my hand in mid motion as I try to pick out another bit. "Nick, look at me. Why are you afraid to tell them that you can speak Basic?"

I look up at him, and I'm crying. "Because they say awful things."

He stands up, still grasping my wrist. "Come along. I don't think this is something we want people to overhear." I stumble after him, still crying.

He drags me a couple of blocks, then slows down again. "Nick. I need you to speak very quietly, do you understand?"

I try to sniff back the tears, and I nod. One of his hands reaches out and brushes a tear off my cheek.

"I'm sorry if I scared you."

"You didn't. I don't know why, but I trust you." Now they would just stand here awkwardly. I just can't do it, though, so I slip into his arms and cry for a moment. He rubs my back gently and I feel much better.

"I'm so sorry. What do they say?"

I sniffle again. "They say terrible things about my family."

"Do they hurt you?"

His voice is so kind… I slip back into his arms and stay there for a few more seconds. "Not physically. Never physically. And they don't know that I know what they say, so maybe they don't mean it."

"What do they say about your parents?" He caresses my back some more.

"The things they say about my mom… the words they use… I don't want to repeat it!" I wail. He gives me another pat, then carefully extracts me from his arms.

"And do they say things about your father?"

"Yes. And I'm not sure, but I think it's worse."

"What do they say?"

"With Mom they just swear. They call her words that can mean terrible things, or they can just be insults. But with my daddy they're so much colder. They say he hurt me. They say he abandoned me. They say he never loved me."

"Are they more specific?" Anakin asks.

I reach out and take his hand. I know how awkward this is, but he has to see. I place his hand on the back of my skull. "Can you feel a flat spot there?"

He nods.

"They say Daddy beat me so badly that he left those. They're all over my head, that one's just most obvious. They say that I used to have memories of being special, loved, and important. They say I used to be clever. And then they say that he hated me anyway. They tell me that he thought I was the most worthless person in the galaxy. They say that he couldn't bear that I had a chance of being a person who would ever be worth anything, so he beat me until I had so many concussions that I lost it all. They say he laughed as he did it."

"I'm sorry, Nick." He puts his hand on my shoulder, and it's comforting.

"They say he was still laughing as I bled my life into the floor."

This time he doesn't respond, just keeps his hand on my shoulder and starts leading me into the market again.

"They say he destroyed me. They say it would be kinder to kill me, not make me live this life."

"They wouldn't say that if they knew that you had learned to speak again."

"Why would anyone want to hurt his kid like this? Who could beat their own child until they forgot how to speak?"

Again he is silent.

"They say I begged for him to stop. They say it started out as incoherent pleas and turned into primal whimpers as he turned my brain into goo."

Again, he doesn't respond verbally.

"They say that even as I was saved, I still reached out to him. They say I still loved him, even after what he'd done to me."

"Nick, the parent who could do that to their child is a sick, sick freak."

"But I still loved him. Why did I still love him?"

"I don't know."

"I wish I knew. Maybe he got drunk that night. Maybe he wasn't normally like that. Maybe I hurt him. Maybe someone made him hurt me like that."

"Maybe."

"I want to know him again. I don't care what they say he's done to me, he's still my father."

"You called him daddy."

"I just don't want to believe it. I don't want to believe what they say about my mommy either. So I call them things like that. Things a kid would call their parent if the parent actually loved them." I sniffle again. I only speak when I'm alone. This is the first time I've ever spoken to another human. I'm just so glad he listens.

"What do they say about your mother?"

"They just-it's like… they say things like that she… like that she wasn't just dating my dad."

"I see." He nodded.

"Like that she was never dating my dad. Like that she never knew him." I say in a rush.

"Then how do they explain that you got back to him?"

I'm glad he threw that wrench into their cold lies. "I-I don't know."

"And because of all this, you don't want them to know that you can talk?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"And they have never hurt you physically?"

"No. Physically, they treat me perfectly, as a good family would treat a three year old, which is the mental age they believe I have. I eat meals with them. They play catch in the yard with me. They chase me around the house playing tag and tickling me when they catch me. But the whole time they say those things about my family. They just talk about me, and the people I used to care about, like I'm not there. Or sometimes they pretend to be sympathetic."

"Did you learn to speak just from listening to them?"

I shake my head. "No. I watch the holo news and I read the net too."

"Is that where your belief that the whole galaxy is just a saga of terrible tragedies came from?"

"I guess. They don't tell you about the person who saved a pitten. They tell you about the people who die the same way I almost did."

"If your galaxy consists of kiddy games and depressing news, how do you know about pittens?"

I smile at him, "I don't just look up news. I'm bored enough to watch videos about pittens sleeping in sunbeams."

He laughs. I feel much better, right away. "How do you even get onto the computer? They don't sound like the type to allow that."

I smile, "Ah, but they also don't think I'm smart enough to hack a computer. They don't think I can locate the power button."

He laughs again. In the shows, laughter is a good thing. Laughter makes the show better. Maybe making people laugh makes life better.

We walk a bit more, and talk. He doesn't watch much of the holo news, but he knows something about it, and he can help me link my shows to real life, and tell me what is realistic. Finally he takes me for dinner, before getting a call on his comlink and having to leave quite quickly.

I start to leave the gardens where we had been eating dinner and suddenly realize that I have no idea where I am. Looking up at the horizon, I don't recognise anything. I run out of the gardens now. I run in the direction I thought we'd been coming, but we turned around so many times.

_What did I think I was doing? I can't even get back home!_ I start to cry. This isn't how the characters in the holos would react, but I can't think of what they'd be doing right now.

After a few moments, I remember an episode of a survival show. In the show, they say that you should choose a place and stay there until you get rescued. I want to stay in the gardens, but after my initial running, I don't even know where that is.

Instead, I chose a diner and sit on the patio. Someone will find me sooner or later.

"Hey, you there! What've you bought?" I hear.

I turn around. There's a man standing in the door glaring at me. "I haven't."

"Then get off my porch or I'll call the troopers!"

I stand and run. I've been threatened with the law, and that never works out well. They'd never give me time to explain that I was lost.

I run until I find an alley. I see discarded blankets lying beside a dumpster. I walk up to the dumpster and pick up the blankets.

Looking up at the sky, I see that it's getting dark.

I curl up under the blankets and lean in the corner formed by the dumpster against the wall. I start to cry.

Today had shown all the signs of being the best day of my life. I had gotten away from the cruel talk about my parents, and I had met the kindest man in the galaxy. Someone who could talk about pittens, shows, life, war… anything. I wish he was with me now.

I want my daddy. I want him to come and take me home and promise that he never hurt me like this. I curl up against the wall, crying. My head hurts, like it always does if I don't get my medication. The flat spot on the back of my skull is throbbing.

Why did my daddy do this to me? He's not even around to hurt me anymore, but the things he's already done to me are too much.

I look at the dumpster and wonder if, by some miracle, the owner has thrown out any painkillers. I'm about to crawl out of the blankets and look for some to clear my headache, when some banging starts. It sounds like someone is opening the dumpster.

I crawl out from behind, wanting to ask if I can spend the night there until I figure out how to get back home.

A woman stares at me. "Are you…?"

"Please, I'm sorry. I just got lost and I was wondering if I could stay here, only overnight." I beg.

"Come here." She comes towards me and helps me stand up. "You can come upstairs until we figure out how to get you home. My husband just finished making dinner."

I'm not about to argue with an offer like that, so I stand up and follow her up to the door. She leads me up to a turbo-lift and takes me up to her floor. Then she shows me to her apartment.

"Bruce!"

A man comes into view, looking at me in confusion. "Who's this?"

"I didn't get his name, he was lost and he needs a place to stay and a way to get back to his home."

"And painkillers," I add.

"Okay, come on in, then." He comes forward and takes my arm. Then he leads me inside to a table which is set with some fantastic-smelling stew. He gives me a seat at the table and pulls up another chair.

He puts some of the food into the bowl in front of me and tells me to eat. I do. He goes to get another bowl and his wife sits down across from me.

"What's your name?"

"Nick," I tell her, "What's yours?"

"Pamela, it's good to meet you, Nick." She smiles at me kindly.

Bruce comes back into the room with the new place setting. He serves himself some food and starts to eat. Pamela smiles at me again and starts on her own dinner.

"I really don't want to be a problem," I say, "But I really need some painkillers, please."

My head really hurts, and I know that I'll be grouchy if I don't get some relief soon.

"It's that bad?"

"Yes!" I curl into a ball and start kneading my temples with my fists. Pamela looks worriedly at Bruce and goes to get medication. Bruce stops eating and comes to sit in front of me looking at my face in concern.

"It'll be okay."

I nod, not wanting to answer.

"Pam's a pharmacist. She knows what to do."

I nod again, and Pamela is back with a bottle of painkillers. I reach out desperately for them. She passes them to me, and I'm relieved to see that they're extra-strength. I open the bottle and take three.

She gapes at me, "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

I shake my head, "No."

"What are you taking those for anyway?" asks Bruce, and I get the feeling that Pamela's not the only one who knows that I've just taken what should be a massive overdose.

"I-I'd rather not talk about it."

Pamela sits down beside me, "Nick, if you really can't tell, I can honour that, but if you can, please do."

I sniffle and move my hair aside so that they can see the flat spot on the back of my head. "I guess I wasn't exactly lucky with parentage." I say with a weak smile.

Pamela rests her hand on my head and I flinch. "One of your parents did this to you?"

"My foster parents say it was my father." I start to cry and Pamela kneels down beside me and wraps her arms around me.

"Don't worry. We've called someone who can get you home. Does the name Anakin ring a bell?"

I look at her, half thrilled, half afraid to believe it. "You found him? Oh, I'm so glad!"

She strokes my back gently and helps me sit up. "Eat, and then you can be ready to go when he gets here."

I do, and the painkillers start to take effect. By the time Anakin gets to their apartment, I feel much better.

When the knock comes at the door, Pamela and Bruce look at each other, and they seem almost worried.

"I'll get it," Pamela volunteers. She stands up and walks to the door. I hear some murmurs from the hall, and then footsteps, getting closer.

A moment later, Anakin appears in the room. I jump up and run to him, throwing myself around his neck. He accepts me and actually picks me up. Then he carries me back to the table.

"Where did you find him?" he asks.

"He was out by the dumpster, lost."

"Thank you for calling." He puts me down gently. I instantly find my way back into his arms, but my feet remain on the ground.

"We knew that it was our duty. He'll be safe now?"

"Yes." Anakin says, squeezing me gently.

"Thank you for being so fast." They say.

Anakin turns and leads me out of the room. When they're out of earshot, he turns to me. "What happened?"

"When you left me in the garden I realized that I didn't know how to get home. My first reaction was to run, though. When I remembered to stay in one place, I found the dumpster for this building. There were some blankets too, so I lay down there. Pamela came out to throw out her garbage, and I came out to ask if I could stay there. Then she brought me back to her apartment. They fed me and gave me some painkillers."

Anakin wraps his arms around me again, "I'm glad you're safe, Nick."

I nod, "Me too."

"Let's get you back home."

"Yeah."

He leads me out to a landspeeder and climbs in. I take the passenger seat and curl up. The ship leaps into the air and Anakin smiles.

"Do you like flying, Nick?"

I shrug, "I don't know. I told you, I don't go out."

"Well, we can't leave it like that. I think you'll like flying." He smiles wider. The ship spins suddenly. I uncurl and hold onto my seat with both hands. Anakin laughs gently at my reaction. He sends the ship straight up, and I find myself laughing too.

We fly far into the air, until we hover just above the tallest of the buildings on the Imperial Center. I stare around.

"Where do your foster parents live?"

I point in the general direction. Anakin nods quickly, and the landspeeder plunges down. I hear myself scream, and then I'm laughing again. Anakin's laughing too, and I decide that I really like flying. The speeder suddenly flips over. Anakin hasn't stopped laughing once, and I don't think I have for anything more than a short shriek.

Finally, Anakin pulls up beside the door of my house. He hops out and helps me out. I stumble around for a second. He laughs gently and helps me stand straight. Then he helps me into the house.

My foster parents are standing at the table, looking worried. My mom sees Anakin first.

"You found Nick! Oh, thank you! I have no idea how he got out, we always make sure to close doors when we leave him alone in a room. He doesn't know how to open them, you see. We only left him for a moment." She reaches out for me, and he allows her to remove me.

"He was wandering in the market. Poor kid was totally lost." He scruffs my hair like I'm a puppy.

"Thank you. We'll be more careful not to let him get out again. We'll probably have to lose at least one job."

Anakin shrugs, "Why don't you just lock the doors?"

"Perhaps that would be a better idea. I just happen to know that he cries sometimes when he's left alone."

"Just give him a stuffed animal or something to snuggle. It's a proven way of calming even the most primitive of organisms."

I don't like hearing Anakin talk about me like that, but I'm glad that he's willing to protect my privacy and my access to any mirror of the outside world. I would be so bored without the holo net. On the other hand, it would mean more games, and I like those, if you remove the cruel talk about my parents.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you for returning him."

Anakin turns to leave. I run and hug him, exhibiting it as cute, puppy-like affection.

He hugs me back, "Goodbye, Nick. Be more careful."

My foster parents will think that it's just an affectionate phrase that's automatic, but I know that he means it.

Then he really does leave, and I'm left with my foster parents. My dad hugs me and speaks in my ear.

"It's a good thing he brought you back here. You wouldn't want to end up like your mom, would you?"

I don't respond, but I ready myself for a long tirade about what terrible people my parents were. I'm just starting to try to comfort myself that Anakin could find out that it was a stupid lie, when I realize that he's waiting just outside. He wants to secretly learn about the language they use around me.

He's a genius. I just have to wait for them to really start in on my parents.

"You wouldn't want to end up on the street, prostituting yourself, would you? Stupid boy, you probably couldn't even work out what to do. Or what if you became a slave? Your master would try to order you around, and you wouldn't even know what he was saying. It wouldn't take too long before you didn't look like a human at all anymore. Your body would be just a vile, bloody pulp in under a week, I bet."

Mom gets out a ball, "Come on, Sweetie," she says to Dad, "Let's play ball with him. We should just make sure that he knows that this is where we are the people who care about him. If he gets out again, Vader probably couldn't be trusted to bring him back."

"Yeah, better show him that this is the only place he'll ever be accepted."

Mom starts to lead me out to the backyard. I glance at Anakin's shadow, and I can see that he's not happy. I follow Mom out to the backyard and she passes me the ball. Then I pass it to Dad, and so on. I just hope Anakin got enough from their verbal abuse of my parents.


	2. Chapter 2

A knock comes at the door. Mom jumps up to get it, and I roll over again as Dad tickles me, laughing hysterically.

There are stormtroopers at the door. I shiver. Stormtroopers are known for being very rough.

"Mrs. Dane?"

Mom nods.

"We have reason to believe that you are mistreating your foster son."

I stand up and go to join the conversation. Mom and Dad are both staring at me in confusion. As far as they know, I don't understand to join conversations. They're not half as surprised as they are when I nod, though.

"You tell him hateful things about parents he can't even remember?"

"We wouldn't do that to the boy, we love him as our own." Mom lies.

"They do." I say.

Dad stares at me. "We didn't know you could talk."

"Surprise." I say.

The troopers take my foster parents. I reach out to them without even thinking about it, but no one seems to notice.

The next thing I know, I'm up in front of a court.

"They tell you lies about your parents, correct?"

I shiver, "I don't know if they're lies!"

The court seems so big. I've been standing here trying to tell them about what they've done to me for the past half hour.

"But they say cruel things about your parents that aren't true?" The judge asks.

"I don't know!" I scream again. He seems to have taken Mom and Dad's stance that I'm a total idiot. Then I realize what I've done, and I start crying. I want to run away, back to Bruce and Pamela. Or better yet, Anakin. But I can't. I kind of tried already, and the troopers didn't take it so well. Now I need my medication, and my head is pounding. Every time I try to tell someone, though, they think I'm just trying to get out to run away.

I grasp the edge of the little platform I'm standing on and tears are running down my cheeks.

"Oh, stop. Can't you see you're scaring him?" I look up and see Anakin coming to me out of the crowd. I vault the railing in my eagerness and run to him. He wraps his arms around me and leads me back up to the witness booth.

"Don't cry, okay Nick?" he whispers in my ear.

"I don't want to tell them. They don't listen!" I tell him.

"Then tell me again, okay?" He runs his fingers through my hair.

I turn to him and start to tell him. He takes a seat on the railing. I follow his lead.

I retell him the beginning, starting with the first thing I remember. By the end, I'm pressed against his chest and speaking into a microphone on a headset he's given me.

As soon as I'm done, I pull off the microphone and cry against his chest. He wraps his arms around me and strokes my back.

"It's okay, Nick. It'll all be okay now. You're gonna be okay, right?"

I sniffle helplessly, then wail again.

"At least you won't have to go back to your foster parents," he says.

Then the judge cuts in with something that only makes me cry harder, "Sir, we don't have enough proof to condemn them. For all I know, this may all be true."

"It's not! It can't be!" I scream, pressing against Anakin.

"Face the court when you speak. We don't want to listen in on your personal conversation."

Anakin turns me around, keeping his arms wrapped around me so that my arms cross over my chest. "I know that none of this is true."

"Then what is the truth?" asks the judge, glaring down his nose at Anakin. I guess he just thinks everyone is stupid.

"Nick is not his given name, as I'm sure you've already guessed. He was born Luke Skywalker."

"Yes, this much is obvious."

"His father never hurt him, although he could be accused of abandoning the poor child."

I turn to him in confusion, and he kisses my cheek to calm me before continuing. Even as he speaks, he rocks me gently.

"As you all know, Luke was a leading rebel."

I stare up at him.

"He was captured after a battle, and taken to prison. After he lost any appearance of being a threat, meaning that he was a mass of blood and gore, they stopped covering his case at all, for fear that the galaxy at large would decide that the Empire is evil. Luke was left to rot in his cell.

"When his father discovered what had been done to the boy, he set out to rescue him. Luke was lying on the floor of a cell, being beaten about the head with a wooden bat, when he was found.

"He was beaten until his memories and knowledge of how to speak were lost. But his father _was not involved _in the beating. In fact, his father saved him. All the fingers on his right hand were broken in the attempt."

He moves his right hand out of mine, and surreptitiously shows me five, slightly-crooked, fingers.

I spin around, "Dad!"

He scoops me up off the ground and hugs me against himself. "It's good to have you, Nick."

"But I thought you said my name was Luke."

He smiles sadly, "Was. Nick is a new person, I didn't know if you would want to take back your old identity. It is my fault that Luke is gone, and I don't want to force you to fill the space he left. If you want to try, I'd be happy to let you, but if you'd rather go, I can understand that too."

"Dad, if I was Luke, I can be him again!" I cling to him. My father. He's my father. I'm crying again, but this time it's not because I'm upset. "What about mom?"

"They were lying, of course. But I'd rather not talk about her here."

"I take it the boy will be going home with you then?" the judge buts in. I really don't like him.

"Yes." Dad smiles.

"You should not have wasted our time with this."

Dad rolls his eyes at the judge, "If you think this was a waste of your time, then I want to know what you consider to be a worthy cause."

The judge just turns up his nose. Daddy picks me up and carries me away from the court. I'm so glad to be rid of that place, and the people, with all their staring and not really caring at all.

"Would you like to fly around a bit before we go home, Luke?" Dad asks me, putting me down to get into his speeder.

"I can't believe we found each other!" I yell, launching myself around his neck.

"I'm really glad I found you too, Luke. Really, really glad." He kisses my cheek again. Now that I think about it, that should have been creepy before I knew who he was.

"Yeah, let's fly around a bit." I tell him, climbing into his speeder beside him.

Dad smiles, "I think you still are Luke."

"Really?" I ask. I don't know this Luke, but I think I like him. Dad clearly does.

"Yes. But, Luke, I have things to tell you when we get home."

"Seriously? Like what?" I ask.

Dad smiles again, "Think superpowers."

I gape at him, "You're kidding."

He holds up one hand, like he's making a vow, "I kid you not."

"Wow." I sit back in my chair, and Dad sends the speeder straight into the sky. I laugh again, thinking about last time we did this. "Dad?"

"Yes, Luke?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, kiddo."


End file.
